THE TRAINING HALL was the only part of headquarters that was kept in the building’s sublevels. When the skyscraper was first built, its foundation had encompassed a massive parking garage. After the Renegades took over, they demolished floor after floor of concrete, leaving only the foundational walls and pillars to protect the integrity of the building overhead. What was left was a vast open space beneath the vaulted ceilings for them to exercise their powers.
Like the lobby and the call center, the training hall was a hub of activity, but all the chatter of the upper levels was replaced down here with movement and action. Renegades launching themselves over platforms, scaling walls, shooting at targets, facing off in large netted-off rings, swinging across an obstacle course of ropes and bars, and—more than anything—showing off their vast array of abilities.
Adrian headed the group as they left the elevator bank, heading down the walkway that passed over the training facilities. He soon realized that Nova’s pace had begun to slow, until she stopped altogether. Adrian glanced back to see her face awash in speechless awe.
He followed her gaze around the room, trying to imagine this was the first time he’d ever seen it. To their right, twin brothers were sparring with quarterstaffs, but one turned into orange liquid and the other into orange vapor each time they were struck. Next to them was a blindfolded boy firing a bow and arrow at a series of moving targets and hitting them dead-center every time. On Adrian’s left, an earth elemental turned the contents of a sandbox into a two-level sand castle without touching a grain. Ahead, there was a woman who transformed into a grizzly bear in the blink of an eye, then charged at a man with great bull horns erupting from his skull. In the distance, a girl had created a vortex above her head and was sucking her opponent toward it, while said opponent used his own barbed hands and toes to grip the floor and fight against the vacuum.
“Sweet rot,” Nova whispered.
“It is a little overwhelming the first time you see it,” said Adrian.
Nova stepped forward, wrapping her hands around the railing. “I had no idea there were … so many of you.”
“The numbers vary,” he said. “Our permanent staff is around four hundred, but we get prodigies from all over the world who come here to be trained for a few months, then leave. We have the best facilities for it, and the best reputation.”
“Trained for what, exactly?”
“To be superheroes,” said Ruby, fidgeting with the wire around her wrist. “What else?”
“And when they’re ready,” continued Adrian, “they go back home and take up the cause of the Renegades wherever they’re from. There are Renegade chapters all over the world now. People who have dedicated themselves to the defense of justice. And it all started right here. Well, not right here.” He cast his eyes toward the tall ceilings. “The Renegades technically started in the Dread Warden’s basement, but that was a long time ago.”
He led them down the narrow walkway that extended across the length of the training hall, two stories over the grounds below. Adrian pointed out different areas Nova might want to check out when she had the chance, from obstacle courses and target practice to sparring rings and a climbing wall outfitted with various materials to mimic different climbing surfaces to an enclosed saltwater pool to row after row of barbells and free weights.
“Just say the word if you ever want a spotting partner,” said Oscar. “Ruby and I come down here all the time.”
“Not Adrian?” said Nova, glancing at him.
Adrian cast Oscar a wry look. “I like the climbing wall and the obstacle courses, but free weights bore me out of my mind.”
“He’s intimidated by me,” said Oscar. “He doesn’t like being reminded that I can bench-press way more than he can.”
“That’s true,” said Adrian, shrugging.
They continued on, Adrian doing his best to point out any resources that might be of interest to Nova, except everything seemed to be of interest to her. They had just passed the equipment rentals counter, where a vast wall held everything from nunchakus to snowshoes, when Nova gasped and grabbed Adrian’s elbow. He startled and turned to her. Nova retracted her hand just as quickly, fisting it against her stomach instead.
“It’s that girl,” she said, nodding toward the floor. “The one from the parade.”
He followed the look. “Oh yeah. That’s Maggie. Alias Magpie, because of her, um … appreciation of small, shiny objects.”
Nova drew herself up, cheeks flushing. “She’s a thief! The Renegades tolerate that?”
“Who are we talking about?” said Ruby, craning her head. On a mat below, Magpie was standing on a plank over an enormous tank full of dirt, using her power to excavate increasingly large and heavy metallic items from the ground, as if her small hand held the power of an industrial magnet. “Oh, her. She’s mostly a scavenger, I think.”
Adrian nodded. “There are lots of abandoned places in this city, and she’s helped us find a lot of useful stuff. Silverware, batteries … things like that. It comes in handy, especially while we try to get trade and manufacturing up and running again.”
Nova scowled. “Taking my bracelet wasn’t scavenging.”
“I know,” said Adrian. “You’re right. Obviously, theft is against the code. But a lot of the kids who come here, Magpie included, had pretty rough childhoods. Sure, there are some parents who think it’s great when their kid turns out to be a prodigy, but there are also lots of people who are still afraid of what we can do. Who don’t trust us. And for them, to have a kid with superpowers is”—he frowned, his heart twisting as he thought of countless stories he had heard of young prodigies being neglected, abused, even abandoned—“not ideal,” he finished lamely, returning his gaze to Nova. “Anyway, when they get here, we try to teach them right from wrong, but it can be hard to overcome some of the survival instincts they’ve developed up to this point. We’re working on it, though.”
Nova was still watching Maggie down below, her lips pinched. Then she glanced down to where her fingers were spinning her delicate bracelet around the wrist of her gray uniform. Clamping her hand over the bracelet, she sighed. “Don’t tell me the Renegades have set up a children’s home for wayward prodigies, on top of everything else.”
“Nothing that official,” said Adrian, smiling faintly. “But when kids come to us without any families of their own, we do try to find a Renegade family for them to live with.”
Nova glanced up at him, and he could see a question lingering behind her eyes. Maybe she was wondering about his own family, his own past. The adoptive celebrity dads everyone wanted to know about.
She turned away without mentioning them, though, lifting her chin as she scanned the busy hall. “Where does the Sentinel train?”
Adrian tensed. “What?”
Her expression was thoughtful as she peered around. “The Sentinel,” she repeated. “That Renegade that showed up at the parade? Does he train here with everyone else, or is there a special area for him? Or … Renegades like him. Are there more than one?”
Her tone was light, innocent, but Adrian couldn’t stop gaping at her, unable to tell if the question was really as innocuous as it sounded, or if there was something more to it than appeared on the surface. If there was an accusation hidden beneath her words.
When Nova faced him, curiosity was etched into her features.
It was Ruby who responded first. “He’s an impostor,” she said, with enough spite to make Adrian flinch.
Nova turned to her. “The Sentinel?”
“He’s pretending to be a Renegade,” said Ruby, “but he’s not. He’s a fake.”
Nova’s gaze shifted between the three of them, a small wrinkle forming between her brows. “You all really believe that?”
Her focus landed on Adrian and he managed to gather himself, shaking off the bout of paranoia. “No one had ever heard of him before that day. Whoever he is, he hasn’t revealed his identity to anyone here.”
“But he’s a prodigy, and a powerful one,” said Nova, and somehow, that small, offhanded compliment sent a faint surge of pride through Adrian’s chest. “And who other than the Renegades would have the resources to make a suit like the one he wears? Or find a way to combine multiple superpowers into one human being?” She glanced at Ruby and Oscar, but somehow her attention always seemed to return to Adrian. Searching and quizzical, as though she could tell how hard he was trying to act oblivious. “If you guys don’t know who he is, then … maybe he’s a classified project that hasn’t been revealed to everyone yet. Right?”
“That’s what I thought at first too,” said Oscar. “But when the Council heard that he’d been acting on their behalf, claiming to have acted on their orders and whatnot, they seemed livid.”
Adrian lowered his gaze.
“And I’m not sure you can fake that sort of thing,” Oscar added. “At least, not all of them. Not like that.”
“Huh,” said Nova, and it was clear she remained skeptical. “I guess we’ll find out eventually.”
Adrian scratched his right forearm, where his new tattoo was still sore beneath the bandage.
“Oh, look!” said Ruby, pointing down to the training floor. “There’s Danna.”
Glad for the diversion, Adrian followed the gesture and spotted Danna on one of the training mats below, bracing herself against a padded bench. On the other side of the mat, one of their trainers was holding, of all things, a slingshot.
As they watched, Ballistic, the trainer, aimed straight up and fired, sending a high-drag projectile flapping toward the ceiling.
Danna crouched, flipping her long dreadlocks over one shoulder as she focused on the target. Then she leaped and her body dispersed into a cyclone of butterflies soaring upward. The creatures surrounded the projectile and Danna reformed, grabbing it with one hand and dropping back down to the ground. It was nearly a perfect catch, but as her feet touched the ground again, she let out a pained grunt and collapsed to one knee.
Adrian grimaced.
“Monarch?” said Nova.
“You’ve done your research,” said Oscar. “She’s on our team, too, but she got injured at the parade so she couldn’t come to the trials.”
“Come on,” said Ruby, latching on to Nova’s arm. “We’ll introduce you.”
They made their way to the next staircase. As they approached Danna’s mat, Adrian could hear Ballistic reminding her to stay in swarm formation as she descended, as her body wasn’t ready for such a fall. Danna fisted her hands as she rebuked, “It’s not that easy! Twenty-nine butterflies were burned off. It’d be like you trying to catch the thing with three missing fingers!”
She spotted their group and straightened, swiping her forearm across her damp brow. Her attention turned to Nova.
“They let you out of the med wing!” cried Ruby. Releasing Nova, she swung her arms wide in celebration. Adrian barely recoiled fast enough to avoid another hit to his nose. “That’s faster than they thought, right?”
Danna heaved a sigh, casting a sour look at the trainer. “They said I could start retraining myself to use the swarm. You’d be amazed what a difference it makes when I lose a bunch like that. It’s like learning to control them all over again.”
Adrian’s shoulders knotted. Twenty-nine butterflies were burned off.
“But I need to make it through the obstacle course before they send me out on patrol again,” Danna continued. “It’ll be at least another couple of weeks.”
“After those burns?” said Oscar, nodding at the small lump where there must have been bandages beneath her uniform. “Lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“And that the healers are so great,” added Ruby. Beaming, she gestured at Nova. “You haven’t met our new girl yet.”
Danna faced Nova. “Insomnia, right?” she said, holding out a hand. “I saw the trial. Impressive.”
Nova accepted the handshake, though as soon as Danna released her she quickly pulled her hand back against her side. “Gargoyle’s not as scary as he thinks.”
Danna chuckled. “I won’t lie. It was refreshing to see someone put Frostbite’s team in their place.” She slumped onto the padded bench. “Five-minute break?” she called over to Ballistic, but he had already turned and started working with Flashbolt, a boy who had what looked like glass marbles embedded in his palms.
Danna turned her gaze back up to Nova. “I heard Sketch thinks you’ll be a decent surveillance asset.”
Nova’s eyebrows lifted and she glanced at Adrian.
He scratched the back of his neck. “We haven’t really started to discuss—”
“But there’s a lot more to being a good spy than people think,” Danna interrupted.
Nova’s gaze sharpened. “You don’t say.”
“You were great at the trials, but they don’t really prepare you for reality, you know. In a real situation, especially a surveillance mission, you have to pay attention to the details. And remember them. Put the smallest clues together to make a whole. You never know what’s going to be important, so you can’t discount anything.”
Adrian cleared his throat. “Danna is sort of the team surveillance expert. But obviously, what she can do is a different skill set than what you can do. We don’t expect … we’re grateful to have you both.”
Nova’s lips formed a thin smile. “Thanks for the tip, Monarch. Truly, I think I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can,” said Danna. “I just want you to stay on your toes. I need to make sure these slackers are in good hands when you’re out there without me.”
“Test me, if you want,” said Nova, with a casual shrug. “See if I pass inspection.”
Adrian glanced at Oscar, and seeing the awkwardness written plain on his face was glad he wasn’t the only one sensing the tension. “This isn’t—”
“No, really,” said Nova. “I don’t mind. It wasn’t fair that she wasn’t at the trials, and I want Danna to feel confident in your choice. Eventually, she and I will be on the team together too, right? So, go ahead. Let’s see how good I am at this surveillance stuff.”
Danna leaned back on her palms, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Okay. Without looking … how many exits are there out of this hall?”
“Oh, come on,” said Ruby. “This is her first day.”
“Seven,” said Nova, holding Danna’s gaze.
A second passed, before Oscar turned in a circle, counting exits under his breath. When he finished, he gave a mild huh.
Adrian, too, found himself scanning the hall.
“Though one could argue,” Nova added, “that with this many prodigies around, able to manipulate metal or blow their way through concrete, there is potential for countless more exits if needed.”
Danna’s face softened. She was beginning to smile when Nova continued, “There are also ten security cameras, two fire extinguishers, and five vending machines—one of which sells nothing but candy, which seriously has me questioning the Renegades’ commitment to adequate nutrition.”
Oscar laughed. “She’s already got our number there. Wait until you see the cafeteria. They have a mac-and-cheese bar!”
Danna’s lips turned upward. “How many occupants?”
Nova lifted an eyebrow. “Do you know how many people are in here?”
“Nope,” said Danna. “Just checking that you’re not actually better at this than I am.”
Nova rocked back on her heels. “Well, I don’t have an exact count. Fifty-ish, I’d guess. And so far, I’ve only discerned the abilities of sixteen of them.”
On the mat beside them, the trainer threw a disc and Flashbolt lifted his hands, shooting a series of colored lightning bolts out of his marbled palms, striking the disc as it arced through the hall.
“Seventeen,” Nova amended.
Adrian grinned. “Now who’s showing off?”
Nova turned a startled look on him, and there was a moment in which the confident, bold contestant from the trials stood beside him. But a second later, her cheeks flushed and she shrank back slightly, bashful or disoriented. He couldn’t quite tell which.
Danna nodded appreciatively. “It sounds like you’ll be fine. Just try to keep them out of trouble, won’t you?”
“Is that in my job description?” Nova asked.
“Not at all,” said Danna, pulling her dreadlocks back and securing them in a low tail. “But I’ll feel better if I know you’re spending half as much energy watching over these guys as you apparently spend watching everyone else.”
Nova grinned brightly and stuck up her thumbs, in what Adrian was absolutely sure was mock positivity. “You can count on me.”
“Well,” said Adrian, clapping his hands together. “We better let you get back to it. Don’t let Ballistic push you around too much, okay?”
Danna grunted, waving halfheartedly after them as they made their way back toward the stairs.
“That just leaves one more stop on this tour,” said Adrian.
“The cafeteria?” said Nova, not very enthusiastically.
“Don’t knock the cafeteria,” said Oscar. “It is free and it is awesome.”
Adrian shook his head. “Not the cafeteria, though I’m sure Oscar will gladly show you around there later if you ask. Actually, I have someone special I want you to meet. We call him the Bandit.”
“The Bandit?” she said, with a mild laugh.
“Yep. He has, in fact, requested a special audience with you.”
“The Bandit,” she drawled again. “What is this, the Wild West?”
Adrian grinned back at her. “Some days I wonder.”